In Addition
by Alzbeta Batoriova
Summary: What does Gary Smith do to push away the pain? Takes place after the video game.


"In Addition..."

By: Seinasu

Disclaimer: _Bully_ is copyright (c) Rockstar and all others associated with legal rights.

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He hummed a tune through closed lips as he searched through his desk drawers. He'd heard the song over and over again on the radio throughout the year, but he could never figure out who sang it. Though it really didn't matter to him because he just happened to hum this tune whenever he was preoccupied with his thoughts.

"Ah ha!"

He smiled in triumph as he discovered his Swiss army knife that he stole from someone's locker three years ago from one of the many schools he was forced to attend. It somehow ended up underneath piles of useless pieces of paper. Each piece had random scrawlings of random ideas that must've popped in and out of his head at one point. Some notes appeared to have been from the lack of medication.

"I need to plan these out one of these days," he said to himself as he looked over one particular note which read: "Step One: Finish math homework. Step Two: Dump itching powder in Pete's jock strap. Step Three: Take over the world. Step Four: Flush meds down toilet."

He pushed the note back inside and closed the drawer. With the army knife in hand, he went over to his bed and sat on top of it. Flicking the knife open, he rolled up his sleeve until it was past his elbow. Without hesitation, he brought the tip of the knife down and started to press it against his skin.

"Mmmhmm!" he hummed through tightly pressed lips as he pushed the tip harder and harder but was unable to break the skin. He felt the sharp pain of his skin being pressed to its limit and it made him smile. He was eager to see red gushing out at any moment, but instead he saw nothing. He frowned in disappoint. "What the...?"

He turned the knife right side up and upon closer inspection he saw that the overall blade was dull.

"Well, well, I guess I neglected you for too long," he said to the knife as if it were a real person. "Sorry, old buddy. Guess I need to sharpen you. Or... why not buy another knife? I _do_ get the occasional allowance from my moronic parents."

He tossed the knife over his shoulder and as he laid his head down on his pillow, he heard a couple of breakable objects crash to the ground. He didn't seem to mind as he stared up at the ceiling. But moments later, he sat up and looked down at his bare arm. He saw a small red dot where he'd been poking.

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he crawled off his bed and went over to where he'd thrown the knife. He tossed aside a few books and some broken pieces of glass (where the glass came from he couldn't remember) until he found his knife. Kneeling down and clasping the blade with his fingers, he closed his eyes and sighed dreamily.

"You help take the pain away," he whispered to the knife, speaking to it like a long, lost lover. "Goddamn meds. They make my head and stomach hurt bad. They must've snuck in some of the stronger stuff... But you, Mr. Swiss, have always helped me feel so much better."

He relaxed his fingers over the blade and watched in sheer delight as blood started trickling down onto his calloused palm.

"Not so dull now, are you?" he murmured as he took the blade with his other hand and laughed. "I just have to 'fix' myself up and I'll be right dandy. I wonder if Jimmy ever thinks about cutting himself?"

He took the knife and ran its tip along his exposed arm. Though he didn't put much pressure into it, his eyes grew wide as he saw a thin trail of blood appear and eventually smeared into his flesh.

"Nah, not Jimmy boy. He's so _bad ass_ even if he does come from a crummy home. He'll beat the living crap out of someone before he does this stuff, because he's so _bad. _He's too _cool _for this."

His sarcasm... God, it never failed him.

"I wonder if Petey ever thought about cutting himself? Pffft. Yeah right. Femme Boy doesn't have the balls to pick up a razor. He'd probably faint at the sight of this mess."

His blooded hand took possession of the army knife and he once again closed his fingers around its supposedly dull blade.

"I'm not suicidal," he told himself humbly. "Why would I want to kill myself over such a trivial matter as expulsion? I did nothing wrong! It's the medication that's doing it to me. That and my stupid parents and all of Western Civilization. I _really _should've stopped taking those pills ages ago. I'm fine, perfectly fine! It's everybody else's fault! Besides, I was allowed to come back. So everything is perfectly _fine_ and _dandy _once more."

Someone knocked on the door.

He quickly shoved the knife under his bed and gathered himself up as Petey entered the room.

"Do you have my math book that you _stole_ two days ago?" Petey asked, not bothering to hide the slight annoyance in his voice. "I kinda need... it..." His voice trailed off as he noticed the blood matted against Gary's dirty teal uniform.

"What's the matter?" Gary asked calmly as he nonchalantly approached the smaller boy. He looked down at himself and snickered. "Whoops."

"O-Oh my god," Petey asked as he kept a hand on the door knob. "What happened?!"

Gary shrugged. "I got my period. I guess that makes me more of a woman than you are."

"Ugh, w-we'd better get you to the nurse's office," Petey suggested unsteadily as he ignored the insult and took a step inside room.

Gary narrowed his eyes into slits as he placed his unwounded hand over Petey's and shoved it roughly off the door knob.

"I'm perfectly _fine," _he hissed through clenched teeth. "Get lost."

Then he placed his bloodied hand on Petey's chest and gave him a forceful shove out into the hallway before slamming the door shut. He heard Petey cry out, possibly at the sight of the blood on his uniform vest. However, he heard another knock on the door, this time it was frantic. He knew it was Petey.

"Get lost, assface!" Gary said as he locked the door and shuffled over to his bed. "I'm okay, really!" Normally he delighted in tormenting the boy who thought he was his friend in the beginning. Never the less, he didn't want to lose the sensations he was feeling at that moment—the rush, the excitement, the blood boiling in and out of his body... It was something he wanted to bathe in.

There was a moment of silence behind the door before Petey spoke up once again. "Are you sure?"

Gary said nothing. Let Petey think what he wanted. He knew he wasn't going to tell anybody about this incident. And even if he did, the only person he'd tell was Jimmy and Jimmy didn't give two shits about him anymore. Even Dr. Crabblesnitch wouldn't care; the man could barely tolerate him ever since he used him like a fool—just like he'd used everybody else in the academy.

Oh, how _awful_ to be disliked. Boo. Hoo. Whatever. Everybody would still be a tool to Gary Smith. However, he wasn't going to take over the school again any time soon.

He sighed wistfully as he fell flat on his back, his arms and legs stretched out lazily. Once again he stared up at the ceiling.

"That felt _good," _he whispered as the sensation of the cutting began to drift away. Eventually, he was going to feel the dull, thudding phenomenon of the paper-thin grazes he inflicted upon himself and he'd return to reality.

It'd been ages since he'd cut himself. He hadn't done it since being enrolled in Bullworth Academy. The joys of manipulating people like puppets fulfilled the void. He knew he'd reached his high point when he stopped taking his meds. However, since he was forced to take them once more, he found that cutting himself relieved some of the pain.

It wouldn't be an addiction. No, no, it would only be a last resort. If he couldn't find somebody to harass or something to focus on, then he'd resort to the knife. Of course he'd have to sharpen the blade or buy a new one. However, he was fond of that Swiss army knife even if he didn't use it as much. Damn ADD would make it difficult indeed.

"Here, knifey, knifey, knifey," he called to it in a sing-song voice as he rolled onto his stomach and crawled off his bed. On his hands and knees, he pulled himself underneath his bed and began his search, ignoring the smears of blood on his bed and carpet.

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THE END

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**Author's Note:** This was another spur of the moment project for me to write. I don't know if Gary _would_ do something like this, however, I assume that since he's unstable to begin with, then anything like this is fair game. Please let me know what you thought of this story or any of my other stories posted! 


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